The Pilot
by This Rhythm
Summary: Bruce contemplates life or death in his final moments inside The Bat. "Death has always been prevalent. Sometimes you have to accept it for what it is. There's no turning back . . . Other times, there is a choice." DKR spoilers. One-shot.


**A/N: I have Batman Fever going on. Anyway, this is a quick one-shot about Bruce's final moments inside The Bat. I want to thank TheWeasleyBoys for suggesting I do an auto-pilot story. :) Also, please forgive me for any grammatical mistakes. **

**Reviews, in any shape or form, are appreciated.**

* * *

Death has always been prevalent. Sometimes you have to accept it for what it is. There's no turning back. You just have to close your eyes and come to terms with the fact that you won't have the opportunity to fuck up massively and have a friend pick you up, get married seven times, and travel the world.

Other times, there is a choice.

Other times, you can choose to live and deal with the aftermaths of what led you to this spot, right here and right now. Other times, you can choose to die and not deal with the aftermaths of what led you to this spot, right here and right now. But in both instances, you have the chance to taste real cowardice. If you choose to die because you can't handle what will come later, that makes you a coward. And, if you choose to live because fear stars to grip you and you think _This isn't right_, it also makes you a coward. Because if you weren't, then you wouldn't have backed down from death.

It's not a bad thing to be scared of death or of the future, and it has never been about who you are underneath. It's always been about what you do that defines you. Deciding to live or die requires strength. You can either throw everything away or pick up the pieces and work with what you have.

Bruce's heart pounds and suddenly, everything becomes peaceful, quiet. The world has slowed down, giving him time to think. There isn't much time left as he looks at the clock. The river is a beacon of light, a way for him to forget everything and be with his parents, Rachel too. The ache in his chest grows and grows, and Bruce swallows the rush of emotions flooding his throat. It's so simple. All he has to do is keep driving.

He's kind of pissed that he repaired the auto-pilot because now he's left with a choice. He wishes his death would be the type where he knows there is no way out. Unfortunately with this, Bruce can decide for himself. All the guilt, all the responsibility will fall on him. Although, carrying everyone's burden on his shoulders it not new.

He doesn't know why he fixed the auto-pilot. After he returned from the hell-hole, Bruce worked on it tirelessly, day and night. There was this feeling he had, and if it wasn't fixed he thought he would regret it. Now, however, he doesn't know what to think. Time is ticking and his mind is going nowhere.

A sharp pain travels through his belly and the rest of his body, and his teeth are grinding against one another to stifle the discomfort. Bruce just wants to quit. He's almost there. The strong grip Bruce has on the wheel loosens, but his fingers hover over it just in case. His breathing has picked up, his hands are shaking and it's almost done. Everything will be finished and he can live in peace.

Except . . . he's choosing not to live. He's choosing to die. The calm feeling Bruce had a moment before is replaced by sheer dread, fear and cowardice. He can't go through with this. There are so many things he hasn't been able to do and he's throwing it all away. Rachel's voice echoes in the back of his mind as she whispers _Your father would be ashamed of you_.

Bruce would like to blame his nerves overreacting and his brain working against his consciousness. Either way, a gust of cold air hits him and he's falling down so fast, he's afraid he might die in this manner as opposed to heroically getting blown up. Frozen ice envelops him and he struggles to breathe. Blue water surrounds him and for a small second, the sun peeks through the murky river, providing a second of warmth. The water floods his lungs and he thinks_ I really am going to die this way_. But he doesn't.

Somehow he reaches the surface and swims his way on shore. The smell of burning chemicals is strong, the weight of his costume dragging him down. Regardless, Bruce moves on because he's already alive and three-fourths on his way towards a new life. Finally, he reaches the shore and attempts to lift himself up. His arms have lost all of their strength, but he manages and loudly collapses on the concrete floor.

A few snowflakes land on his cheeks. Bruce looks up at the sky, the towers partially obscuring his view and the smoke wafting over. His heart rate slows down, and for the first time in a long time, tears of relief drip down his nose and fall to the side. He's hunched over and clutching his chest – not from pain, but from contentment. To an outsider Bruce might look like a braying donkey, but as the tears continue to pour out of his eyes, he realizes how glad he is of cowardice. It quite possibly saved him.

It's been several minutes already, probably more, and after much effort Bruce sits up. The city is in shock and awe, but he just sits and watches because he can do this. Now, he can relax, travel the world, get married seven times, leave in peace and know everything will be taken care of. Now, he knows he has not failed his father or Alfred or Rachel or Lucius or Jim. He has the ability to pick up and pieces and move on with his life. The future is unclear, but there's a certain thrill not knowing what's going to happen. As Bruce Wayne, he had to live up to his father's legacy and everyone's expectation. As Batman, he had to shoulder Gotham's sadness and anger because he could. But as . . . as _himself_, he can take a breather and just be. He's ready for this new chapter.

He can't believe he thought about dying. It seems so absurd. It's understandable, though. Not to mention it's very easy to walk away. But it's also very easy to start all over. Maybe the reason why everything was so messed up before because he was under auto-pilot. The gears were already set for him, and all he did was be an idiot and follow along. But Fate liked to screw around, Bruce has come to find. He was tested in every single way possible and he succeeded, so perhaps lying outside on the floor with no care in the world is his reward for his hard work. As he gazes out into Gotham, he feels the switch is go off, and instantly he feels much lighter. More free. And Bruce smiles because now he can finally, _finally_ be the pilot he was meant to be.


End file.
